Magic Can Be Beautiful
by UnsolvedRiddle
Summary: Wherein Garrett Hawke shows Fenris that not all magic is corrupt and ugly. Mage!Male!Hawke, Hawke/Fenris, fluff, slight OOC - "Magic can be beautiful," Garrett murmured, his voice a husky timbre. His large hands cupped the slight elf's own pair while fingers caressed thin digits. "You just have to know where to look."


**Title: **Magic Can Be Beautiful

**Fandom/Pairing: **Dragon Age II, Male!Hawke/Fenris

**Rating: **PG

**Author's Note:** This came out of no where and I do apologize if it isn't very good. This is my first, and probably last, time writing Dragon Age fanfiction. I do have an urge to turn this into a full-fledged chaptered fanfic though I don't think I exactly have the skills for it. Regardless, I hope you enjoy this. It is subject to editing. It is, currently, un-betaed.

**0000**

"Magic can be beautiful," Garrett murmured, his voice a husky timbre. His large hands cupped the slight elf's own pair while fingers caressed thin digits. "You just have to know where to look."

The mage wanted above all else to prove Fenris wrong, show him that his gift wasn't a terrible curse that only produced misery and pain. The ex-slave had gone throughout his entire life being subjected to the darker parts of magic. He was ignorant to the fact that there was a whole new, pure world of magic out there just waiting to be discovered. Now, it was Garrett's turn to show him a secret world that would be all their own. His chance to prove that not all magic was corrupt had finally come and after so long, he was most assuredly not going to squander it.

Reaching deep within his core with the ease one picked up from years of practice, Garrett found the glowing magical essence that burned at the center of his being like a contained ball of wildfire. An unconscious smile fluttered across his lips as he let the feelings of warmth and belonging envelope his body. Sometimes, deep in the night when he began to think of his dear mother and her smiling eyes, he just basked within his magic's warming glow. It was forever a constant in his life and had become something of an old friend that comforted him gently in his hour of need.

The mage exhaled softly before he ignited his magic and pulled that warm glow from deep within to the forefront. He concentrated the magic into the palms of his hands and began to send waves into Fenris' own at a sedate pace so as to not alarm the other male. Any type of magic made the elf wary and Garrett didn't want this experience to end on a sour note. This moment was supposed to be happy and awe-inspiring.

An iridescent, icy blue glow crept over both of their hands until they were completely encased. The elf had tensed and looked at his hands with suspicion, though he made no move to remove himself from Garrett's hold. After some odd amount of minutes in which the strings of pure magic bound them together, the brilliance began to died away until it completely faded. Garrett's hands slipped from Fenris' and he stepped back a pace. His whiskey coloured eyes were bright and excited as he gazed at the smaller male.

"Go on, open your palms."

Fenris glanced from Hawke to his hands and hesitantly complied. His heart thumped against his rib cage like a frantic hummingbird. He was, admittedly, nervous and suspicious of what he would find within his hands but at the same time a strange sense of excitement washed over him. He couldn't explain it. Never in a million years would he, an ex-slave that belonged to a cruel and tyrannous Magister, be curious to see a product of magic. However, he knew Hawke. And the mage would never do something that would potentially injure him. But the constant niggling memories that were comprised of Danarius and the thick, tar like feel of his poisonous magic sliding over his skin like a snake clawed away at his faith with sharpened talons.

In the end, his trust in Hawke overcame the oppressive memories of his former Master and he shoved them back into the little black box within his head. He would not taint his image of Garrett with the vulgarity that was Danarius. They were nothing alike and Fenris refused to allow the old man to corrupt the happiness he had found with the male in front of him. This was a battle the Magister would not win.

When Fenris' hands completely separated from Garrett's, his breath caught and he was unable to think let alone speak. Cradled within the middle of his palms was a delicate rose made of pure ice. It was crystalline; fragile and the light caught it so that it sparked and gleamed like glass. The pounding in his chest became erratic and warmth spread over his entire body. It was simply...He had never seen magic create something so breathtakingly beautiful before.

"See?" Garrett asked. A crooked, boyish grin wormed its way across his tanned face and crinkled the corners of his eyes. An indescribable happiness welled within his chest. "You just have to know where to look."


End file.
